Unsaid words
by Koshi Sekisen
Summary: Sequel to “Small Talk” although can be read separately. “You know? We almost lost him for a minute… I thought you should know” “Why?” “Because you care, Trowa” Was her answer.


**Disclaimer: **I do NOT own Gundam Wing. If I did, there would be so much Yaoi… (wink)

**Summary:** Sequel to "Small Talk" although can be read separately. "You know? We almost lost him for a minute… I thought you should know" "Why?" "Because you care, Trowa" Was her answer.

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Unsaid Words

(Sequel to "Small Talk")

* * *

Trowa watched Quatre's face as the latter slept peacefully on the hospital bed. Duo has just left a few minutes ago, saying his final goodbye to them (well, not _final_ goodbye, but for "a long, long while, Tro" time). The blond had been asleep, so the braided boy had written him a letter in his chaotic but firm calligraphy, which matched Duo's personality perfectly. He had been asked to deliver the letter once the patient woke up, because he said he felt bad about waking him up.

"He wouldn't mind" Was Trowa's stoic reply, knowing he was right.

"I know he wouldn't, but I'm kinda glad he's sleeping. It'd be tough to say bye to him, of all people" Admitted Duo "He's my best friend, and I'm still worried about him, but I know you're with him and I gotta go back to Hilde"

"She was hurt"

"Yeah…" Duo's face darkened, but brightened suddenly "But I've been told she's fine, and we're catching a shuttle to L2 to continue our business, which I guess isn't running too smooth with only a boy running it"

Trowa raised an eyebrow, elegantly.

"Well, we couldn't leave the business just like that, you know? So we let Hilde's cousin take care of it, but last I heard he was till his neck with work, and I kinda feel sorry for the boy"

Trowa nodded. "He won't be happy knowing you left without saying anything to him"

"Which is why, Tro, I'm writing such a perfectly fine letter" He grinned and gave him the foresaid.

Duo had left with his trademark grin, waving dramatically and in a hurry. Neither Wu Fei nor Heero had come to check on the blond, but that was to be more or less expected. After all, they all cared about each other, although they weren't as vocal as the rest.

Quatre started stirring and Trowa watched him recover consciousness. He winced internally when Quatre gasped, he was in obvious pain. After all, _had_ been punctured by a fencing sword, and that _had_ to hurt. The doctors had said he had lost a lot of blood (he knew the ripped cloths he had bandaged the boy's torso with wouldn't hold long) and the stress of piloting had ripped his flesh badly. He was to be in pain for a while.

Trowa couldn't have done anything else, though. They were in a dangerous situation with Libra, and Trowa wouldn't be able to fit Quatre in his Gundam and leave Sandrock behind… So the blond had had to pilot and fight, wounded or not. Trowa had been worried… he was the only one who knew of Quatre's predicament and the only one who would adjust himself to the situation. So he was the first to run to Quatre's Gundam once they landed, and the first to see the enormous amount of blood covering the seat, the monitors and the floor.

He had done what he could, he unblocked the blond's seatbelt and lifted him as carefully as he could, and slowly descended the stairs. Duo had been right next to them, confused as to why Quatre wasn't descending sooner and why had Trowa gone and help him. The braided boy had paled considerably when he saw the amazing amount of blood that soaked the Sandrock's pilot's clothes. He was the one to raise the alarm, and Sally had been the one to operate him and watch him so he kept stable.

That had been hours ago.

Now here he was, holding Duo's letter in one hand, sitting in one of those terribly uncomfortable chairs in the hospital rooms, watching Quatre's form fighting to survive. And it wasn't the first time it happened, and he was kind of sure it wouldn't be the last, knowing Quatre and his damn self-sacrificing personality. It was already late at night, and he wouldn't doubt that Sally or another doctor would come in soon and shoo him away, telling him kindly to come back tomorrow.

"_Unhh_…"

Trowa's stomach churned at the sound of Quatre's dry voice and the gasp that followed. Slightly panicking but forcing himself to calm down, he remembered this was Quatre he was thinking about. The blond knew him, understood him. And he knew the boy, understood him.

"Ughh… T-Trowa…?" His voice was small and weak, but when the blond looked at him, he smiled.

"Yes" He answered, not really knowing what to say, but relieved.

"How… what…?"

"Shh" Trowa hushed him, frowning at the rate of the blond's heart, which was too erratic from the pain. "Relax, you're in the hospital. They had to operate you. You remember the fight in Libra?"

Quatre had shut his eyes and was biting his lip, but managed to nod. "I'm feeling nauseous…" he said simply after a while passed in silence. "Drugs?" He wondered. Trowa made an affirmative noise. "Are… Are the others okay?"

"Yes. Heero and Wufei are still around, I think. Duo left a while ago."

"Left…?"

"To meet Hilde. He says he'll contact you soon… left you a letter." He could see the look of disappointment of Quatre's face, and Trowa felt the sudden need to curse Duo's foolishness. Quatre loved Duo a lot, and his departure surely would mean the blond would be upset.

"Oh… Are you okay?"

"Me?" Trowa's surprise was genuine. After all, he had barely received a scratch or two. "Fine. You should be resting."

"Okay…"

A tense silence followed. Trowa simply watched the blond adjust to the pain and his wakefulness and after he realized he had been staring, he looked away. Quatre was willing to fight the pain, so he didn't really notice it. He willed his breathing to slow down and his body to relax. He then realized how sleepy he was.

"Trowa…?"

The acrobat looked at him and couldn't help but smile sadly. Quatre was obviously exhausted, yet he was trying to keep awake.

"You should rest. I'll go call Sally" Then he got up and left the room, without listening to Quatre's reply.

He walked down the aisle and asked a nurse where he could find doctor Po. The girl had to call another nurse (older than herself) and ask again, and by the time he got to her office, 20 minutes had passed. He knocked the door and received an affirmative answer, so he opened the door.

Sally was sitting on her desk, tons of papers and X-rays around her. When she looked up and saw Trowa, she immediately got up and asked if Quatre was awake, and got his files and accompanied him back to the room.

"Did he say anything coherent?"

"Yes. He was complaining about nausea"

"That's to be expected" she sighed "We had to give him a very strong sedative. He kept waking up during the procedure… though I don't think he'll remember anything" Trowa nodded; after all, Quatre was a Gundam Pilot so his autoimmune defences and resistance to drugs must've been stronger than a usual person's.

Once they arrived, Sally checked his monitors and smiled, nodding affirmatively, which made Trowa sigh in relief. She turned around and smiled warmly at Trowa, making him feel uncomfortable. He wasn't used to kindness unless it was from his sister… or Quatre.

"Don't worry. He's gonna be fine"

"I know" And he did. That didn't explain why he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. She looked at him as if she knew something he didn't.

"You know, during the procedure… he said your name" She remembered, smiling and tenderly brushing some blond strands out of Quatre's face. He was out of it. That comment sparkled Trowa's interest.

"… He did"

"Yes. You know? We almost lost him for a minute…" She sighed, a frown marring her beautiful features "I thought you should know"

"Why?"

"Because you care, Trowa" Was her answer "I'll come and check on him in an hour. Call me if he wakes up or worsens…"

The acrobat nodded, feeling his stomach clench uncomfortably. She left the room, glancing backwards once. Trowa sat next to Quatre and looked at him, wondering about what she said.

He had come to terms with himself after that one incident when he had almost lost him. The blond pilot had caught a pneumonia that had nearly cost them their fourth team mate, and it had been Duo who had made him realize how much he cared about Sandrock's pilot. Duo had made Trowa realize that Quatre cared about him, _really_ cared about him… and he had not known what to do with that information. It hadn't affected their relationship in anyway, though. During the night when they had been hiding in the forests, just after Trowa had admitted he didn't know what he felt for him, if it was more or less than friendship (really, what was friendship anyway?), Quatre had told him he would wait for the answer.

_Wait for the answer…_ He thought, reaching out for Quatre's hand and noticing how cold it was in comparison to his own.

The main reason he had not wanted to consider contemplating his feelings towards Quatre was the war. He hadn't wanted to care more about the blond pilot than anyone; he hadn't wanted to care about him at all… Yet there he was. During the war he had learned valuable lessons. He had found out he had a sister (biologically or not, that really didn't matter) and loved her. He had met allies, companions… friends, he had met Duo, Heero and Wu Fei. And he had met Quatre.

Quatre, the selfless pilot. A strategic genius, a soft-heated and strong-willed pilot. The self-sacrificing idiot.

He had helped him out, had reached out to him. No matter how much Trowa insisted on ignoring him, the blond was always there for him, always supporting him, even if he got nothing in return. He had known the minute they had exchanged their few first words that the boy was special.

Quatre was special, very, very special.

But when he had found that out, when Quatre had gone to search for him after the Zero-incident, he had been too afraid to confront it. He had pushed his emotions away, shoved them, ignored them. No, he hadn't really ever been angry with him for almost killing him… after all, the shot was intended for Heero and it was him who had gotten involved. And he could never, ever forget all Quatre had gone through to find him again, Duo would never allow him to.

Quatre had been patient. Had never forced anything on him, had never asked for anything in return when he had given it all, and for that Trowa was grateful. But now he wasn't feeling relieved anymore, now that the war had ended he ran out of excuses to face what he had been avoiding.

The blond pilot groaned out loud and Trowa instinctively pushed away the strands of hair that stuck to his forehead. He was still unconscious, but although Sally seemed reassured he knew the blond was still in danger.

Blue eyes blinked open and closed again, deeply asleep.

* * *

When Sally entered the room to check again on her patient, Trowa got up and left the room without saying a word. She watched him leave with a sad and understanding smile: after all, it mustn't have been easy for such young boys to fight such a dangerous war. There were wounds that would need to heal, whether physical damages or psychological, and as a doctor she couldn't ignore either. There would be scars that would linger on forever, some would heal, but some most certainly wouldn't.

She had always been watching the pilots. While she had always been closer to Wufei, always _felt_ closer to Wufei, she had studied all their habits in order to be able to help them. It was precisely that connection she felt with the Chinese pilot that assured her Wufei would heal, she would make sure of that. She had also met Hilde personally and Duo was a fighter, tougher than his looks revealed, she would keep an eye on them but she wasn't especially worried. Then there was Heero… The Perfect Soldier, they called him, but she knew he was far from perfect. While tending to Hilde, Sally had talked a lot to Duo and he had explained how the Japanese pilot resettled his own bone after breaking his leg. Heero was a complicated case, he would probably need counselling to be able to put behind him the soldier carved within him… but he had Relena he could depend on.

Duo had been more worried about Trowa and Quatre than Heero, and Sally knew he cared a big deal about the Japanese boy.

As the braided boy said: "no one, especially not them, should live alone". Of course they we _not_ alone. Quatre had a big family and the Maganacs and Trowa had his sister and the circus crew. But she knew Duo wasn't talking about that, she was talking about something else. Something so strong yet fragile she was afraid would break because of its complexity.

"It's late" a voice behind her startled the doctor and she turned around to face Wufei with a most relaxed expression in his face. She smiled a little bit when she noticed that it was the most peaceful expression she had ever seen on him. Obviously, the end of the war had been a relief.

But would it always be a relief? Would they be as relieved and calm in a year, in two, in ten? She wasn't so sure. The war was over, but not the warriors within them. Feelings of misplacement would most certainly occur.

"How is he?" he asked.

"Fast asleep, and with a little fever... With lots of rest he should be ok, though… he was extremely lucky. All vital spots were missed"

"Sometimes I wonder if he avoided those on purpose" was the surprising confession of the boy. "He always knew the weirdest things…"

Sally smiled, for she hadn't expected such an honest answer.

"Did you think about…?"

Wufei looked at her and she decided not to keep on questioning him. He would tell her his answer, eventually, and she had the feeling he would give her the responde she was expecting. Although the offer was for every Gundam Pilot, she had the feeling Wufei was the one who needed it more than the rest. They were all offered a job in the Preventers. They would all be working in pairs (to be decided by Lady Une) and Wufei's offer was to be working with her.

"I'll keep you informed"

* * *

While under constant surveillance, Quatre's condition had improved considerably in a week, although his mood hadn't lifted much. Sally had been very surprised when Trowa had stopped coming, and it had been affecting his recovery to say the least. The blond pilot has asked her if Trowa had said anything, and only smiled understandably when the answer was no.

Duo had been calling and talking to Quatre, and when Sally asked him if he knew something about the acrobat's whereabouts Duo had been aghast. Heero didn't know anything either, and Wufei had asked her not to call him until he had decided. She wasn't particularly offended: she knew he knew the answer, but he didn't want it to be obvious.

So it was a surprise to see Trowa enter the hospital after 10 days of absence, and she walked towards him without knowing if she should be angry or not. After all, Trowa was such a private person that it didn't feel right to complain about anything: it seemed like everything he did, he did for a reason. She nodded politely and he approached her. Without a single trace of nervousness or any kind of emotion at all, he had asked about Quatre's whereabouts. She told him with a gentle smile that he was still in the same room, and reminded him that visiting hours closed early that day. He had nodded his thanks and left.

Quatre had been reading various documents that his sister Iria (she was seriously injured during the explosion and still had to use a wheelchair to move around) had brought with her about their father's company. Many of his sisters had expressed much of their interest in continuing the business, but since a lot of money was involved they couldn't be sure of their intentions. Plus, some of the sisters they hadn't even heard about since a few weeks ago. They were on the process of remodelling the company from scratch, changing the most conservative views and updating them to the new generations, and were planning on offering jobs to their other sisters and their husbands and families (so the weight of it all wouldn't be on Quatre's shoulders).

He was already tired. Although the progress was visible and fast, reading such complicated documents was tiring and most of the time he ended up with headaches. The fevers had subsided a few days ago, and he was planning on being released home as quickly as possible. He had not been expecting a sudden interruption.

"Quatre"

He was startled and it pulled a little bit at his stitches, but his face light up and the pain was forgotten. He was not angry, but he wasn't happy either, after all, it had been days since Trowa disappeared. He was understanding, though, he knew Trowa needed a lot of time to think and no promise was ever made. He knew there was something that made the acrobat insecure, and he knew that nothing could ever be demanded. Whatever was done, whatever was decided would be Trowa's choice. He would never force a response that wasn't genuine.

That hadn't meant that it hadn't hurt. The physical pain was little in comparison to not knowing if he would ever see him again. He knew he could take not ever being anything with Trowa, but he also could never be without him. Even if it was only at a friendly distance, he couldn't imagine a world without the green-eyed pilot. So he had wondered if Trowa had left. Maybe, he though during a delusion and had still kept that fear inside of him, maybe Trowa had realized that he had only needed him during the wars, when living alone was impossible and you could only count with a few privileged comrades. Though he tried to be stronger than that, the aftermath of the war had taken a heavy toll on his mind and body. He convinced himself that, had he been in full capacity, he would've been able to shrug it all away. After all, he had always acknowledged the fact that he might be alone for the rest of his life: his father had disowned him and later died, he didn't know his family, and the pilots were moving away.

"Trowa"

His voice was cool and his smile was polite, inviting, yet not too warm. He was, after all, hurting.

"I'm sorry I made you wait"

The blond boy had not expected that answer, but understood what Trowa had meant, and for that, the acrobat was grateful.

He hadn't known how to confront the blond after learning he had almost died and had called out for him. He hadn't known how to accept and assimilate that information, and later decide what to do about it. When he had finally seen Quatre sleep, pale, with dark bags under his eyes, hurt and almost dying, when all the adrenaline faded, he met the cold and harsh reality of the situation.

That was not to say he wasn't glad the war had ended. They had all been fighting, risking their lives, almost going insane, and trying to fight to finally obtain peace. But it wasn't easy. It had never been easy. The war had ended, but the pilots, the fighters within them were still alive, and Trowa had to learn what to do about that, too. He had always imagined either dying during a battle or killing himself if he ever managed to survive. And there he was, still breathing.

He had been wondering if it had been thanks to his sister and circus crew or if it had been, like Duo had told him, thanks to Quatre.

Now he knew the answer.

It hadn't been easy. He had thought about carrying out his original plan, but he hadn't been able to. He had tried to convince himself at the beginning that he just wanted to make sure the peace would remain before dying, but he had been aware that it wasn't true at all. He had known all along the reason, and there was no way he could avoid it now.

But it was too soon, too soon to decide anything. The war was still to recent, peace was a just-born baby.

"It's ok" he smiled a bit and Quatre smiled back.

He had the feeling he needn't words when trying to communicate with Quatre, he had always felt that way.

_**"…You really **__**do**__** care… Ah, you should tell him, you know. I bet he'd be really happy to know that" those were Duo's words. "Trowa… you DO know that he feels the same way about you, don't you" For some reason, Duo made his statements sound as question, but deep down he knew they weren't. "Why don't you tell him?" He asked "I know you might not want to tell **__**me**__** of all people, but I **__**do**__** know how to listen and keep a secret, and I never lie. And Quat's my buddy, I want him happy. And I know you telling him, would make him the happiest guy in the universe. So I don't know what's stopping you"**_

_**"War"**_

Quatre had been listening and had confessed his wish for the war to end.

Now the war was over, it was over.

"Trowa, don't worry. It's ok"

Dismayed, the green-eyes pilot noticed that, for the first time since they had known each other, Quatre had totally misunderstood him. Blue eyes downcast, there was a small smile. He looked up, confused, when instead of sitting on the chair next to the bed, sat on the edge of the bed. He was uncomfortable, he didn't even know what he was going to say: he had been counting on Quatre understanding what he wanted to say, not the contrary.

They would blame it on exhaustion when it ever came up later on, but Quatre realized what was wanted to be said, and smiled peacefully. Trowa watched blue eyes search his soul and a fresh feeling deep in his consciousness, which could either be blamed on the blond's empathy or his own surprise at finally being able to express himself properly.

He wasn't sure, there were many things he didn't know or understand yet, but he knew one thing: whatever was going on or whatever was ever going to be, he couldn't be alone. Since the "we shouldn't be fighting each other!" he had known there was something else and a connection was made. Ever since they had seen each other, even though it had taken so long to admit, they had realized they needed each other. Not in a way that they couldn't live without the other (no, they were both strong and independent enough) but their being together was the only thing that would make the best out of them to their full capacity. If not with the other, it wouldn't be the same, there would always be something missing. Whether be it love or friendship, it didn't need a name, just the other.

They both knew that and they were both afraid and scarred of the horrors of the wars, they were not sure they could survive without going insane after the horrors they had witnessed.

But there was no one else in the world who would be able to soothe (no, some wounds would not heal, not ever) the pain.

It was natural. It was scary, scarier than the battlefield, but it was right.

"It's ok"

Maybe it wasn't true yet, but it would be.

THE END.

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**Author's note: **Finally! I started this fanfiction TWO years ago (I cannot believe it!) almost immediately after finishing "Small talk". I hope you liked it.

I know the end wasn't really explicit and it might have been disappointing, but I'm rather pleased with it (after so long… lol) and I've always appreciated more what was really never said between 03 and 04 than what was actually stated. Especially with Trowa, it's difficult yet amazing to be able to write "his" thoughts. I hope you enjoyed reading it ^^

I was actually thinking on writing a third part (of the series, if it will ever be) around the end of Endless Waltz.

Please feedback!


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